Instant Attraction

It always did.

And he didn’t want this to end.

How ironic was that? He’d always slept with the women he liked. He’d slept with them and then it’d been over. Now this thing was going to be over soon regardless, and he hadn’t slept with her.

By choice.

He’d lost more than his nerve after his crash-he’d lost his mind.

Katie was still running her hand along the skis. “They look fast.”

“You’ve skied?”

“Not since high school.”

“That’s okay. It’s like getting on a bike.”

“I thought having sex was going to be like getting on a bike.”

Okay, still hard. “If there is any justice, it’ll be even easier. Try these.” He tossed her a set of ski pants from the new samples-sleek and black and formfitting.

“These would maybe fit if I hadn’t been eating Annie’s food for two-and-a-half weeks.”

He took in her maroon turtleneck sweater, which hugged mouthwatering br**sts. Her gray wool pants did the same for her legs and ass, an ass he’d stared at enough times to know exactly what would work on it. “They’ll fit.”

“Okay, but if I burst out of them, it’s all your fault.”

And he’d be happy to take that blame. “Don’t worry.”

“Me worry? I left that behind in Los Angeles.” She smiled wryly. “Mostly.”

“It’s going to be okay, Goldilocks. We’ll stay on the easy runs. Now hurry and change, we’re burning daylight. I’ll wait for you out front.”

And then, because she just stood there a little dazed, a little overwhelmed, and a whole lot adorably sexy, he leaned and kissed her.

No idea why.

Okay, maybe he knew exactly why. Because he couldn’t get enough. Pulling back, he watched her glasses start to fog. He really loved knowing he did that to her. And after skiing, he was going to do a hell of a lot more to her.

For her.

And then…and then if history was any indication, he’d screw it all up somehow.

But that for later. For now, with her still staring up at him in sexy wonder, he left her alone in his office to change.

Chapter 11

Katie looked down at the ski pants in her hand, her heart pounding. They weren’t going to have sex in his closet. They were going skiing.

Dazed, she tugged down her pants, then proceeded to get them stuck on her boots. Crouching to fix the problem, she had to laugh at herself-not exactly how she’d imagined getting naked in Cam’s office. Giving up on the pants, she unlaced her damn boots, then nearly jumped out of her skin at the low scraping sound beneath the desk.

It was the same sound she heard outside the bushes every time she walked by them. Somehow her animal stalker was in this very office with her, possibly planning on eating her alive. Oh, no. Not going out like this, and she leaped back.

And tripped over the pants around her ankles. Her flailing arms knocked over a huge stack of skis and poles on the way down, all of which fell in a spectacularly noisy cascade to the floor as she landed in a graceless heap on her butt.

Someone came pounding down the hall. “Katie?”

Oh, God. She yelled, “Don’t come in-”

But the door whipped open, and Cam stood there staring at her.

She couldn’t blame him. She lay on her back, draped over a pile of skis and poles, her pants still around her ankles. She decided to take some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t wearing either granny panties or a thong, but a nice pair of cotton bikinis in a demure pale pink.

With a picture of Hello Kitty on the front.

She’d have been far happier in a suit of armor, but what could she do?

Cam crouched by her side. “Are you hurt?”

“No!” She tried to sit up. Not easy with no stomach muscles and her feet weighted down. She straightened her glasses. “And I said don’t come in.”

He was looking at her panties and smiling. “Hello Kitty.”

“As in Don’t. Come. In.”

“You screamed.”

“I did not.” Scooting backward, she rolled over and staggered to her feet, pointing to his desk while scrambling to pull up her pants. “And you have a wild animal under there. You-” She stopped when he bent to look and let out a huff of laughter. “What? What’s so damn funny?”

“It’s just Chuck.”

“Chuck.” She pictured a rabid coyote. A psycho wild turkey. “Who’s Chuck?”

“Take a look for yourself.”

She glared at him, then bent a little and peered beneath the desk.

Sitting down there among a few electrical cords and a forgotten pair of athletic shoes was a scrawny, patchy gray cat, nearly all skin and bones.

“He adopted this place a while back apparently, when I was gone. He’s feral, and comes and goes as he pleases, though he hasn’t been around too much lately. Doesn’t like new people.”

Chuck was a cat. She bent down and took another peek. Yep. A cat. Sort of. He had whole chunks of fur missing, and the biggest green eyes she’d ever seen, making him look more like a baby ostrich.

“He’s not much of a people person,” Cam told her. “But he won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you either, Goldilocks.”

“Ha.”

“Come here, kitty, kitty.” Instead of waiting, he stepped toward her, his eyes flashing an assortment of things, most of which made her heart skip more than a few beats.